


Erosion

by CrawlCrawlCrawl



Series: Hollow Knight One-Shots I've Made [15]
Category: Hollow Knight (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Gen, One Shot, Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-14 23:29:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28928820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrawlCrawlCrawl/pseuds/CrawlCrawlCrawl
Summary: The White Lady ponders her mistakes.
Series: Hollow Knight One-Shots I've Made [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2106597
Kudos: 18





	Erosion

After imparting the half of the Kingsoul on that little vessel, the White Lady was once again surrounded by silence. She was just presented a second chance, a second chance at motherhood, but she knew better. She knew she didn’t _deserve_ a second chance, and that vessel did nothing to _deserve_ having a wretched hag like her as a mother. And so the little vessel left her domain, its footsteps signaling that the chance she had had left. It was probably the most interesting thing that had happened to her in quite a while, and would likely be the last interesting thing to happen to her for the rest of eternity. Her status as a higher being meant that she could not die by natural means, and while before it was a blessing, allowing her to stay with her Wyrm forever, it now felt like some kind of sick joke at her expense. She knew she deserved it.

The intrusion of that little vessel had her thinking about the past in a way she usually didn’t. The vessel had the same look in its eyes that the Hollow Knight did. She knew the Hollow Knight was impure, one look at the thing’s mannerisms when it thought it was alone proved as much, and yet she said nothing about it. Was it cowardice? Likely. All she knew was that it was another mistake in the long list of mistakes that she had made, and as a result of her cowardice, Hallownest had fallen into ruin. All of her Wyrm’s accomplishments, destroyed, and it was all her fault. She didn’t even have the guts to die with her kingdom like she should’ve, instead living on as a coward.

Ah, her Wyrm. She dearly hoped that he had managed to escape Hallownest, and live in peace someplace else for the rest of eternity. Hopefully he would move on and manage to find a new mate, one far better than she ever was. Of all the things she didn’t deserve, having him back was at the top of the list. She deserved to be alone. Well, she still had her loyal knight Dryya, but eventually even she would pass on. Oh well, at least that moment hadn’t come to pass yet, so she could relish in the concept of still being cared about for at least a little while longer, even if she didn’t deserve to feel such a feeling.

Deserve. The White Lady found herself coming back to that word quite a bit. What she deserved, what she didn’t. Usually the latter. A bastard like her didn’t deserve much, and what she did deserve was never positive. She’d readily admit it, she hated herself, more than anyone should ever reasonably hate anything. If she could have it her way, she’d kill herself right away. But she couldn’t and she shouldn’t, she deserved to suffer in silence for eternity.

She felt a dull ache in her body, the atrophy of not moving for so long getting to her. While she could technically break her bindings, she would break the promise she had made to herself. No, she had to stay here, to protect the world from the horrid monster she really was. She couldn’t risk sewing seeds again, after all, what happened when she did will be forever burned in her memory as one of the most horrific acts a being would probably ever do. At this point, she didn’t even remember whose idea it was. It was probably her’s, her Wyrm would never come up with something so terrible. All those little faces, strewn across the abyss. Oh, how in another universe she would love to name each and every one of them, dote over them, allow them to live such beautiful lives. No, she couldn’t think about those types of things. She forfeited the privilege of being allowed to experience, or even _think_ about experiencing happiness when she doomed her children to die horrible deaths in that godforsaken pit.

She could feel the tears rolling down her body again. Tears she hadn’t earned the right to shed, but shed anyways. The toll of her errors weighed so heavily upon her, and it always broke her eventually. She would cry for a while, hate herself even more, and then go back to sitting in silence until the next time her memories caused her to cry again. Rinse and repeat. From an outsider looking in, one would see it as a fairly miserable way to live, but the White Lady didn’t feel alive anymore, and after all, no punishment is enough for what she did.

The White Lady still had one last positive memory keeping her spirits up, from back when Hallownest still stood. It was right before the sealing of the Hollow Knight. Just as it was about to be sent away to be locked up for eternity. She looked at it, deep into its eyes, and at that moment she saw. She saw the life in its eyes. She then thought about its destiny, what would happen to it, and she couldn’t help but feel true sorrow for it. She brought it into an embrace, and whispered “I’m sorry.” to it. And then it embraced her back.

She could’ve had so many more moments like that, if only she had done things differently. But the past is the past, and now all she has left is to sit and hate herself. How many beings had suffered due to her actions? Hundreds of thousands, most likely. The citizens of Hallownest, her many children, her loyal knights, her stepdaughter. How she had failed them all. Hornet probably hated her the most for what she did, the little spiderling had a habit of finding things out on her own, and likely figured out what happened in the abyss. She hoped that at least Hornet didn’t hate her Wyrm, he didn’t deserve any hatred for what happened.

She couldn’t help but laugh at her own hyperactive imagination through the tears, although it was not a laugh of proper happiness but instead one of bitterness. She was being sentimental again. If only she had been more sentimental when things were good, maybe things wouldn’t have turned out this way. If she could smack herself in the head, she would’ve. She tried to tell herself that her tears weren’t genuine, that she didn’t deserve to be emotional over problems that she herself created (or convinced herself that she created), but eventually she couldn’t help it. She just wanted to go back to the way things were. Before the infection, before the children, before the sealing. She just wanted to be a mother. Her own self-hatred couldn’t stop her from wishing it to be true.

But she knew she couldn’t have any of that. Not while the shadow of her own mistakes and shortcomings hung over her like a cloud. Her bitterness towards herself was like a haze that she couldn’t escape, even when she attempted to think positively. That, in itself, was the ultimate punishment she suffered. She just couldn’t help but hate herself. Even when it wasn’t her fault. So she sat there, refusing to break her bindings, for the rest of time.

**Author's Note:**

> How long can CrawlCrawlCrawl write about a plant lady hating herself? The answer might surprise you.
> 
> I meant to make the next thing I wrote be the next chapter in The Hermit, but I got excited about this idea so RIP that. The next thing I post will be The Hermit-related, I promise!
> 
> Anyways, I was thinking about White Lady and realized how depressing she is. I mean, she essentially gave up on life over her own mistakes, doomed to forever sit in the Queen's Gardens for the rest of time. I can only imagine how much you'd have to hate yourself to do that to yourself. So I decided to write about it.
> 
> Constructive criticism and general feedback appreciated.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed. :)


End file.
